


The Pirate's Treasure

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Historical, M/M, Oral Sex, Pirates, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Storms, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 06:24:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21049784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: This was not where Crowley expected to encounter Aziraphale





	The Pirate's Treasure

Crowley leaned against the railing, watching the sea glide past, wind whipping a loose strand of long red hair that had escaped his ponytail. He tried to ignore the ache in his heart, a feeling he always got when there was no land in sight and the memories felt close. At least there were few animals on board this particular ship.

“Ah, Master Crowley, enjoying the fresh air?” asked the Captain with a warm smile.

Crowley had paid well for that warm smile and a room to himself. “Well enough,” he said, glancing up at the stairs cast brightly against the night sky. “Just heading to bed.”

“Care to join me for a drink before you retire?”

Crowley didn’t generally need much encouragement to drink, and this was no different. “Delighted,” he said. At least that might help keep the nightmares at bay.

The captain led him into the ship and down to his own cabin. It was nicely appointed, as it should be for a ship this size carrying the sort of passengers they did. He expertly poured them each a glass and gestured for Crowley to sit.

Crowley barely listened as the Captain regaled him with tales of life at sea, nursing his own drink as the Captain progressively made his way through the bottle. Finally, he bid the man goodnight and headed for his own quarters.

**

A cannon shot roused Crowley sometime near dawn, the ship shaking with the impact. He could hear panic from the other passengers in the hall. He rolled onto his back and looked at the ceiling, wondering if he should bother getting out of bed.

Rough voices and a woman’s scream made up his mind for him. He got to his feet and reached for the door, only for it to be shoved open. He barely resisted as he was manhandled up on deck with the other passengers and crew.

A red dawn was just breaking on the horizon. It looked as though there might be a storm brewing in the distance. Another ship was alongside theirs and he idly watched as the pirates, or whatever they might be, ransacked valuables from the passengers and the hold. No particular loss for him.

The captain was still drunk as he was led out to join them, looking a bit worse for wear. The pirates talked among themselves as the valuables were transferred to the other ship. Crowley could feel fear among the passengers but he could tell at once that these pirates weren’t in the mood for murder. Hostages, maybe, but not murder.

As Crowley looked over at the other ship and tucked his loose hair behind his ear, he caught an odd glimpse of white on the other ship. _It couldn’t be._ He frowned and reached out with his mind, only to find himself quickly blocked as the figure stopped.

A moment later one of the pirates came over and gestured him towards the other ship. Crowley shrugged and sauntered over, making his way over the railing between the two ships with less grace than he would have liked.

The passenger ship was set loose and Crowley watched the passengers and crew scatter and take cover, though the threat was over. A pirate grabbed his elbow and took him below deck, gesturing him at a door.

This cabin was nicer, if for no other reason than the man, or rather angel, it contained. He looked at Crowley as if not quite believing he was in front of him. For his part, Crowley closed the door behind him and tossed himself into a chair. “Pirates, angel? Didn’t take you for the type.”

“Freedom fighters,” he corrected.

“Awfully interested in gold for freedom fighters,” said Crowley.

“Have to fund the rebellion somehow,” said Aziraphale, getting to his feet and fidgeting in a way that told him he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the goings-on.

“So what, you got orders to take a crew and go after wealthy ships?”

Aziraphale sighed. “I’m supposed to be encouraging the rebellion. I got convinced to join the crew for this trip. I’m not the captain, I just wanted the space.”

Crowley chuckled and looked at the books tucked against the walls. “I see, that. Standards, I know.”

“We’re on our way back to port. I’ll make sure you’re dropped off there. I planned on making myself scarce once we landed anyway.” Aziraphale wasn’t quite looking at him.

“So rather than leave me going to my destination, you decided to bring me along?” asked Crowley, reaching for a bottle of wine he spotted on one of the shelves.

“Well, whatever you’re up to, I should at least try to thwart it.”

“It seems I’m your prisoner, then,” said Crowley, getting the bottle open and taking a swig.

Aziraphale took it from him, glanced at it, then took his own drink from the bottle. “I was saving that.”

“What better time than now?” asked Crowley, sprawling in the chair, trying not to notice that Aziraphale was a bit more tan than usual and the way the sunlight sparkled off the sea and into his hair.

Aziraphale shrugged and took another swig before passing it back. “We’ll be in port in a few days. They’re not planning on taking any more prizes.”

Crowley opened his mouth to respond, only for there to be a knock at the door. Aziraphale got up to answer it, smiling at the surprisingly young man on the other side. “Ah, Captain, can I help you?”

“Heard you took someone,” he said, peering into the cabin. Crowley gave a little wave.

“Yes, he’s an acquaintance of mine. Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on him.”

The captain frowned, looked about to argue, then changed his mind. “Fine. There’s a storm coming up, you’ll want to make sure things are secured.”

“I will, thank you.” Aziraphale all but closed the door on him, then glanced out the window before gathering up a few loose books and securing them.

Crowley watched him move around the room. Not the first time he’d run into Aziraphale in an unexpected place, but usually, he was the one in league with pirates or bandits or whatever. Freedom fighters… well, one man’s rebel was another man’s freedom fighter. Clearly Aziraphale did his best to stay out of the way of whatever they were doing.

Somewhere above them, the mast creaked as the wind began to pick up. “He’s young but he’s a good captain, he’ll get the ship through,” said Aziraphale.

“Hope so,” said Crowley.

Aziraphale packed away a few more things, then took the bottle from him and corked it. “We’ll finish that later.”

Crowley pouted. “So, we just sit here and stare at each other until the storm breaks?”

“We can chat,” said Aziraphale, taking a seat and purposely leaving space between them.

Crowley moved closer. “We could do something else.”

Aziraphale looked at him, then away. “We shouldn’t,” he said softly, voice betraying his desire.

“That’s what you said the first time, and the second, and the fifth. I think we’ve determined by now that neither one of us is going to be struck down for exploring the pleasures of the flesh.”

Aziraphale bit his lip and glanced at Crowley. “It would be a good way to pass the time.”

Crowley leaned closer, Aziraphale closed the distance and kissed him gently. Thunder rolled somewhere in the distance.

Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand and led him to the bunk tucked into one wall, laying him down and moving over him. Crowley had, at first, been surprised at Aziraphale’s enthusiasm for this sort of activity, but then again, he generally denied himself few pleasures.

Though, to his knowledge, Aziraphale only indulged in these types of pleasures with him. And while Crowley might do a bit of tempting, Aziraphale was the only one he wanted this sort of intimacy with.

Aziraphale smiled down at him and brushed Crowley’s hair back. No matter the fashions of the time, Aziraphale’s hair was always short, with just a hint of wild curls to it. Sometimes Crowley wondered why, but that seemed like one of those questions he might not like the answer to, so he didn’t ask.

“You’re thinking,” said Aziraphale, leaning down to kiss him again. 

The boat rocked and Crowley cupped Aziraphale’s hips. “It’s supposed to be bad luck to have a woman on board, so maybe you should make an Effort and take me.”

“You do rather enjoy that,” said Aziraphale, moving down to kiss Crowley’s throat and open his shirt. “Fortunately,” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “so do I.”

Crowley focused on his own Effort. Aziraphale made a pleased noise and slid down, nuzzling him through his trousers before opening them. There was another peal of thunder as he swallowed Crowley down.

Groaning, Crowley gripped the bed as the ship dipped into the waves. Aziraphale bobbed his head, moving with the ship as he pulled Crowley’s trousers down.

“You are delectable,” he said, pulling back and flipping Crowley over.

Crowley barely had time to brace himself before Aziraphale’s tongue was pressing into him, teasing him open. His cries of pleasure were lost in the sounds of wind and water, lightning illuminating the room for heartbeats at a time.

Aziraphale knew exactly what he liked, leaving Crowley a writhing mess, hair falling into his eyes as he rutted helplessly. Finally, he moved again, kissing Crowley’s ear. “You’re beautiful,” he said softly, pressing in.

Crowley groaned around the stretch. Aziraphale wouldn’t hurt him, but he would dominate him, cover him with his body, hold his wrists as he chased his pleasure. There was nothing above or below that could compare to the bliss of knowing he was safe and secure in Aziraphale’s hands. 

The ship tossed violently in the waves, but all Crowley could feel, taste, smell was Aziraphale. He came untouched, overwhelmed by pleasure, keening loudly though the sound was lost in the storm.

Aziraphale kept going, every thrust telling Crowley _mine_. Aziraphale panted against his skin, whispering wordless murmurs that had no real meaning other than telling Crowley he was safe, he was wanted and, perhaps, he was loved.

Crowley felt Aziraphale lose his rhythm. He groaned and came, holding Crowley tight. Crowley didn’t mind a bit, dozing a bit with the rhythm of the boat. Aziraphale kissed the back of his neck and rolled to the side. Crowley snapped his fingers and they were both fully dressed and the mattress was clean.

Aziraphale smiled and gathered Crowley in his arms, kissing him gently. “Go on and sleep, I know you like a nap after.”

Crowley was in no position to argue, cuddling into Aziraphale in a way he’d never admit to when he was fully awake, dropping into a mercifully dreamless sleep.

**

When Crowley woke again the seas were calm. Aziraphale sat next to him with a book. He smiled down at Crowley and ran fingers through his hair. “Good afternoon.”

Crowley stretched and rolled out of bed. “How much longer until port?” he asked, wandering to the window.

“Should get in late tonight,” said Aziraphale, setting his book aside and watching him.

“Good,” said Crowley, looking out at the sea. He took a breath and then glanced at Aziraphale. “I’m headed towards Wilemsted. Care to join me?”

Aziraphale nodded. “I have a feeling I shouldn’t stick around Port Royal anyway.”

“Good, it’s a plan.” Crowley looked back at the sea. This time he didn’t feel anxious. Instead, he found himself just a little bit hopeful.

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to astudyinfic for reading it over


End file.
